


Sleeping Beauties

by dozens



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Fluff, M/M, made partially for fuyuhikos birthday!, this is really gay lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 06:48:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7791046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dozens/pseuds/dozens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fuyuhiko was not a pretty sleeper, by any means, but Hajime liked it. It gave him character; small flaws that weren’t really flaws, but simply rough edges that Hajime wouldn’t trade in for the perfection of anyone else in the world.</p>
<p>(aka the first three times fuyuhiko kuzuryuu and hajime hinata shared a bed)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleeping Beauties

Hajime liked paying attention to people; noting their habits and behaviors.

All of his friends were so different and unique and _fascinating_ and Hajime liked finding out the little things about each of them, the traits that made them so wholly **them**. If he was being completely, one hundred percent honest, he'd have to say Fuyuhiko was one of the most interesting to watch. He had so many odd little quirks, things that showed little glimpses of the character beneath the yakuza's gruff personality.

Hajime had noticed many things about the yakuza simply from watching him; the way he covered up his affection with insults and curses, how he shut up immediately after getting flustered, how he never drank milk. This was before Hajime had realized that they acted a little bit more like boyfriends and less like 100% platonic friends, before he couldn't stop himself from noting everything about the boy.

The way that his hands were always ice cold, despite how warm he was. ('Bad circulation,' Fuyuhiko would say with a scoff when questioned. 'Honestly, i doubt it. They cant be that cold, or you wouldn't hold them! I _know_ you hate the cold, dumbass.' It'd shut him up for a time, but Fuyuhiko's words wouldn't stop Hajime from complaining further, or squeezing the others fingers that much more tightly.)

How his eyes scanned over every room he entered before he could relax, as if he was searching for some danger, something about to leap out at him from the shadows. How after searching, Fuyuhiko's eyes always landed on Hajime, before flitting away after a minute of inspection from the spot directly next to him. (If someone was already there, the blonde would push his way into the spot on Hajime's other side, Peko usually drifting after.)

The fact that he was different when he was unconscious; soft and open and unguarded. (A bit drool-y, true, but it was oddly endearing in its own way, in Hajime's eyes.)

From their few sleepovers, Hajime'd gathered that the yakuza liked to be _surrounded_ by pillows. Small, decorative ones that he’d vehemently deny owning, to body pillows that were larger than the blonde himself.

Fuyuhiko slept like there was someone else in the bed with him; a leg hitched around the closest of his many pillows, another sprawled out before him. His arms were usually at work supporting his head (an odd thing, considering the multitude of pillows Fuyuhiko owned), or holding the nearest cushion closely to his chest. He drooled every time without fail, mouth slack open as if he was going to continue some sentence at any moment.

Fuyuhiko was **not** a pretty sleeper, by any means, but Hajime liked it. It gave him character; small flaws that weren’t _really_ flaws, but simply rough edges that Hajime wouldn’t trade in for the perfection of anyone else in the world.

The first time they slept in the same bed (the two were at Fuyuhiko's house, and Hajime had forgotten to bring his own pillow or sleeping bag, and the Yakuza didn't want him to sleep on the couch, out of the safety of his room), Hajime assumed that nothing of interest would happen. Fuyuhiko would sprawl out with his pillows on his half of the bed, and Hajime would be kept up all night with the thought that he was sleeping in the same bed as _Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu_.

He was only partially correct.

Hajime _was_ kept up, for a time, but he was soon lulled asleep by the even breaths of the boy next to him. Fuyuhiko _did_ sprawl out in his sleep, but he used something to support himself other than his usual pillow nest; said item being Hajime himself.

There was a leg slung across him when he woke, Fuyuhiko's knee hitching onto Hajime's hip and trapping him underneath the yakuza. There was an arm beneath Hajime's neck, and a cold hand ensnared in his own. Most notably, there was a head nestled into the crook of his neck, a nose pressed uncomfortably against his pulse, soft breaths warming his shoulder, and a line of drool wetting the front of his shirt.

In the few moments before his head cleared from the haze of sleep, Hajime couldn’t quite tell where he ended and Fuyuhiko began. Their legs (minus the one hooked over Hajime) were tangled together, arms sprawled over and under each others bodies, fingers ensnared. Hajime's neck was twisted at an odd angle in order to tuck Fuyuhiko's head underneath his chin, and he could see the way the blondes hair rustled with every breath he exhaled.

Quite honestly, Hajime wouldn't object to staying like that all morning. It was a Saturday, and the two were going to be hanging out for the rest of the day anyways. Why not sleep in for a bit, especially when they both seemed to be pretty comfortable? It might be a bit awkward when the other woke up, but Hajime could always feign ignorance. He just wanted to _sleep_ , god. (When Fuyuhiko woke up, his cheeks were tinted bright pink, and Hajime was told never to speak of the moment again.)

 

The second time they shared a bed, it was at Hajime's house. It was late, and they were both half-delirious from lack of sleep. Fuyuhiko didn't want to sleep on Hajime's floor, and the couch really wasn't any better. Clearly, the only option was for them to share a bed.

Hajime's bed was significantly smaller than Fuyuhiko's (it was lacking the variety of pillows, too), but neither really seemed to mind. They were already half asleep, so the amount of space the bed provided was pretty much the last thing on their minds. They (or Hajime, at least) were asleep in moment, exhausted from the previous day.

Yet again, they woke up in a bit of an odd position.

Hajime was (once again) the first to awaken, a stray beam of sunshine shining directly in his eyes. With a groan, he turned away from the invading light and buried his head into his pillow. Hajime wasn't sure why his pillow was so warm, but he wasn't going to complain. (...It was pretty hard, though. What was in it? Bricks?)

Only when his 'pillow' moved did Hajime realize that he had his face pressed into Fuyuhiko's back. How he thought he was a pillow, Hajime had no idea. _Most_ of his pillows didn't usually smell like Fuyuhiko did: like whatever cologne he wore (Hajime liked it; it was deep and sharp and vaguely like cedar wood), with a hint of something sweeter underneath, like baked goods. 

Hajime was slightly too distracted by how Fuyuhiko smelled to notice exactly when the other had woken up, but he found himself shocked when the gray back he had been staring at for about ten minutes was replaced by two golden eyes. 

Hajime blinked. 

Fuyuhiko blinked. 

Finally, the silence was broken by Hajime's voice, raspy from disuse and thick from sleep. “Mornin', sleeping beauty.” Fuyuhiko flushed red, and made a noise of annoyance before pushing Hajime's face away. 

“Shut the fuck up and move, asshole. I've still gotta get dressed.”

“...You _do_ realize you're on the edge of the bed, right. You just. Need to get up?”

“I can't go anywhere until you move your fuckin' arms, y'know. You've gotta move your legs, too.”

Hajime blinked again, flexing his arms to test Fuyuhiko's statement. Sure enough, the smaller boy was wrapped up in his arms (as was apparent by the way he squeaked and shifted slightly closer). Hajime snorted at the reaction, watching the way that Fuyuhiko's flush only grew darker. Eventually, he went easy on the Yakuza, lifting his arm and letting the other crawl out of bed. Despite how hard he tried, he couldn't ignore the sudden empty space next to him, and the feeling that his bed was too big with just one person in it.

The feeling didn't go away.

The third time Hajime and Fuyuhiko slept together, they were once again at Hajime's house. His family was a bit less inclined to suddenly burst into his room, some demand already on their lips before realizing that their son wasn't the only one there, so it was clearly the better option. They had been dating for a couple weeks by then, and their frequent sleepovers were restricted in order to be sure they weren't doing anything 'inappropriate'.

Hajime had fallen asleep watching the other breathe, eyes darting from his boyfriends face down to their hands, wrapped up entirely in each other. He was embarrassingly happy to just be there, to be in Fuyuhiko's presence, and to be holding his hand, as corny as that was.

He probably fell asleep with a smile.

Once again (as Hajime had expected), the duo woke up together, limbs intertwined. Their hands were still twisted together, and Hajime had an arm wrapped around the yakuza, who was pressed up against his side. Fuyuhiko was partially on top of the brunette, his head resting on his collarbone. Unsurprisingly, there was a puddle of drool uncomfortably dampening the front of Hajime's shirt.

He laughed a little bit at the two of them, before shifting slightly to look more closely at his boyfriend, cheek pressed snugly against the top of the others head. 

“Hey,” he murmured. All that answered him was a groan, and movement as Fuyuhiko pressed his face further into Hajime's chest. “Wake up.” Another groan, louder this time. “What, do you want me to kiss you awake, sleeping beauty? If you don't get up soon someones gonna come in here and then we'll probably never be able to stay the night here ever again.” Nothing. “Also, you got drool on my shirt, so-”

“I did _not_! That was probably _you_ , asshole, you drool all the time!” Fuyuhiko shot up in a moments notice, cheeks red and hand squeezing Hajime's tightly. 

“I got you, you know. Now you have to get up.”

“...Shut up.”

Hajime gladly did so, pressing his lips to Fuyuhiko's.

**Author's Note:**

> made partially for fuyuhiko's birthday (my kids finally growing up :') ), partially because i Crave Kuzuhina 24/7
> 
> pretty much my first fanfiction ever, so please send in your thoughts!  
> thank you for reading!! <3


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